


Go Fuck Yourself

by BirchBow (chaoticTenebrism), LaughingStones



Series: Rich Merrill, Deluxe edition [3]
Category: After the Storm - Raymond Roach & Key Dyson & Hannah Birchwood, Motorcity (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood Drinking, Crossover, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Multi, Self-Esteem Issues, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Supernatural Creatures, Vampires, gender shenanigans, rampant bisexuality, vampire instincts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-08 03:58:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19863127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticTenebrism/pseuds/BirchBow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: Chuck’s pretty used to walking into Rich’s pod without knocking, which is part of the reason he’s so utterly mortified when he walks in and there’s someone inside who’sdefinitelynot Rich. And also, who’s a girl.And also, who’s pretty much fuckingnaked.





	Go Fuck Yourself

Chuck’s pretty used to walking into Rich’s pod without knocking, which is part of the reason he’s so utterly mortified when he walks in and there’s someone inside who’s _definitely_ not Rich. And also, who’s a girl. And also, who’s got long ears and long, crooked, vampire hands. 

And also, who’s pretty much fucking _naked._

“I!” says Chuck. “Whoa! I, sorry, I, wow, sorry!”

“What the fuck?!” says the girl, in a high-pitched shriek, and Chuck sees the red flush spreading down her shoulders, across her-- _really_ bare--chest, and sees bright green at the edges of her vampire-dark eyes, and understanding clicks into place in his head. His own long ears tilt forward in fascination.

“Get the fuck out of my room?!” says Rich, still squeaky with shock, and spins away from Chuck, crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Okay, yeah, but,” says Chuck, “--wait, who are you being?”

“One; none of your fucking business,” says Rich. His voice is high and weirdly familiar, in this form, but Chuck can’t quite place it, “Two; learn to _fucking knock,_ and three, _get the fuck out of my room!_ ”

“Wait,” says Chuck, still staring. Taking in the narrow curve of Rich’s spine, his pale back and the freckles on his shoulders. The fall of the shoulder-length blonde hair he’s picked, and the flick of those vampiric ears.

“ _Wait,_ ” says Chuck again, more slowly this time, and steps forward. “...What the fuck, is that--wait, are you being, like...me?”

Rich goes tense all over, all the long, thin limbs of the body he’s chosen going pulled-in and tight. “...Um,” he says, and _that’s_ why Chuck recognizes the voice, why it sounds familiar but not familiar enough to recognize. It’s _his_ voice, but lighter and a little higher, sweeter. And, right now, _dripping_ with guilt.

“What the fuck,” Chuck says again. “Holy shit. That’s so weird. I wanna see, dude!”

Rich tenses a little more, and then relaxes slowly. Glances back, flicks one familiar, too-long ear. “...You’re not, uh.” He fidgets, and Chuck catches himself checking out the shape of his own ass, but _female_ , and has to drag his eyes back up to the back of Rich’s head instead, feeling his face go warm. “You’re not mad?”

“I mean, I dunno dude, did you make me super ugly as a girl?” Chuck says, and Rich relaxes a little more.

“...No,” he says, and shuffles around a little at a time. “I mean, I don’t--no, I didn’t. You wouldn’t be. Uh. It’s just a game.”

It’s _weird,_ is what it is. The girl in front of him has Chuck’s bony collar bones and long limbs, the same narrow waist and almost the same face, but her hair is a little longer, down to her shoulders. There’s a softer curve to her hips, and--

“Man, are you staring at your own boobs?” Rich says, lifting his arms like he means to cross them again, but hesitating and just sort of hovering them halfway there instead. “Is that not, like, weird for you?!”

“They’re _my_ boobs,” Chuck says, and then-- “And they’re barely there, dude, what the fuck?! Why didn’t you give me boobs?”

“It just--seemed right!” says Rich defensively, still scarlet to the shoulders. “Okay?! I was just messing around!”

“I could have boobs as a girl, you don’t know!”

“Small boobs are great!” Rich says. “They’re really great, okay? Fuck! I mean, if it's not weird, then--do you want to try them out, or what?"

“Do I--” Chuck falters, startled. “What?”

“Do you--” Rich is chewing on his lip, and--fuck, he even got Chuck’s fangs right. He glances through his bangs, brushes them back, and Chuck is 100% sure his own face has never looked like that, shy and embarrassed and _hot,_ so he really has no fucking clue how Rich is doing it _._ “Do you wanna touch them?”

Chuck tries to say something, huffs, tries again, and finally manages “--Do I want to _touch my own boobs?_ ”

“Yeah…” says Rich, shoulders hunching uncertainly.

“I mean-- _yeah,_ obviously I do!” Chuck says, and crosses the room in a few strides, staring at--himself, his body but not, his face but different, the freckles on Rich’s breasts, the pale, narrow line of his throat. “God, fuck you. This is so hot, fuck, you suck.”

Chuck’s touched boobs before, obviously, but he still hesitates when he reaches out, cups a hand around one pale breast and then, cautiously, traces a thumb around the nipple. Rich shivers and makes a little squeaking noise.

“Dude,” says Chuck. 

“I made them--I was, thinking about you, about yours,” Rich says, hands working at his sides. “I just made them more, uh...they’re _really_ sensitive, I think I did a little too _mmmh_ …” He shivers again as Chuck swallows, throat dry, and rubs a thumb past the nipple he touched. His skin is just a shade or two off from Rich’s--Rich glances down, licks his lips, and Chuck can’t see the change happen but the next time he strokes Rich’s pale, freckled chest their skin matches perfectly. 

“... _Fuck,_ ” says Chuck, and gives in, gets both hands on Rich’s chest and squeezes, kneading what little Rich saw fit to give himself, dick half-hard and starting to feel pretty urgently tight in his pants. Rich catches his breath, his ears flick, and god he gave himself, gave _Chuck_ these gorgeous, soft-looking pink lips, and long, pale-gold eyelashes, Chuck’s completely sure his eyelashes have never looked that good.

“Yeah,” Rich moans, high and shaky and so close to Chuck’s own voice, and that probably shouldn’t be so fucking hot but wow, shit. Rich presses against his hands, flushed all over, squirming. “Ah-- _ah,_ yeah, mmh! Wait, ahh, I’m, sensitive, it’s embarrassing…” he gives those words a quavering moan, smirks at Chuck through his hair as Chuck’s mouth drops open in affronted embarrassment. “It’s so good though, ahh! Please don’t stop, play with my nipples and make me take it _ah fuck!_ ”

“Asshole,” says Chuck, and gives the nipple he’s pinching a rough little tweak. Rich yelps and twitches, slapping Chuck’s hand away to rub tenderly at the abused nipple and glare at him. “Fine, okay, you want the full _Chuck experience--_ ”

Rich _whimpers_ when Chuck seals a mouth over the nipple he pinched, licking and sucking and plucking at it gently with his teeth--Rich’s dark vampire eyes go bright green for a second like he’s struggling to control his transformation, and then fade back to black again. “ _Oh,_ ” he says, “yeah, I, _hnnh!_ Can't have gotten that right, you'd--ah! You wouldn't be able to wear shirts, so, uh, I'll just--scale that back a little--”

“Aw, but it’s so _cute,_ ” Chuck says, a little vengefully, and nibbles on the other side, plucks at it with his teeth. He knows Rich has to focus to change--has to focus harder to change tricky stuff like nerves. Chuck has absolutely no intention of letting him do that, and every intention of vengeance while he has the chance.

Rich gasps and arches, moaning. “Man, quit it, I can't--oh you son of a bat! You're--doing that on--you _dick!_ ” He pants a minute, shivering under Chuck's mouth, then rallies a little. “Guess what I figured out,” he says, and there's a sly glint in his eyes. “You wanna-- _mmh_ , wanna see?”

Chuck glances up Rich’s chest, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, and scrapes his teeth gently over the nipple in his mouth. Watches that face, so weirdly like his own, as Rich shudders and moans. 

“I’m not gonna stop,” Chuck says, _very_ smugly. “You can do whatever you want.”

“I figured,” Rich grouses breathlessly, a chirpy little trill at the edge of his voice. “Look.” He flexes his slim shoulders and-- “Check out my _pretty wings_.”

They're not as big as Chuck's, probably because Rich hasn't seen his that often, but they're sleek and pale and cute, with a scattering of freckles across them that Chuck is pretty sure don't actually make sense, that's not where the sun would hit them. Artistic license, maybe.

All of this happens somewhere in the back of Chuck’s brain, because the rest of his brain is busy with going _wings WINGS_ and driving a fascinated chittering noise out of him. He has to throw a quick glance at the door, but they’re alone, the room is locked, and Chuck flares his wings out wide, presses up against the narrow, pale body in front of him and locks their wings together, feels his own narrow ribcage under his hands, hears his own familiar soft whimper echoed back at him, finds a nipple with one hand and rubs it gently to feel the wings against his shiver and shudder.

“Oh,” Rich gasps, eyes wide, “that's, that feels--wow, that's so _nnh!_ Weird. Wha, why does it fffeel like that?” He's flushing farther down than Chuck ever does, that full-body blush that he never seems able to shift away, and he's definitely pressing closer to Chuck now, pushing up into his hands. It’s-- _Chuck’s face,_ big, dark eyes with pale eyelashes and flushed lips, but it’s so much prettier, _hotter,_ this can’t be what he actually looks like but it’s what Rich _thinks_ he would look like and Chuck is feeling _things_ and he doesn’t really know what they are. He plucks gently at the nipple he’s playing with instead of thinking about it, then lets go and wraps his arms around Rich’s chest and smoothes them along the webs of Rich’s pale wings, gathers them up with both hands and both wings, bundles them up against his back and holds them there, and Rich's mouth drops open. The feeling of a skinny chest rising and falling against Chuck's own, the strange, extra softness of Rich’s chest pressing up against his is--fuck. Just, _fuck._

“ _Fuck,_ ” Chuck murmurs, and licks his lips, restless, runs his tongue over his fangs. He wants--to bite, to pin Rich’s wings between them and--god, he doesn’t even know (he definitely knows, the urge is so sudden and strong it’s kind of scary but god he _wants_ ).

Rich's mouth is still hanging open as his head tips back and he sways into Chuck, sucking in huge gulps of air. He clutches at Chuck's shoulders, his thighs pressing and rubbing together.

“Oh fuck,” he pants, high and shivery and familiar, “oh _fuck_ , I'm, _god_ , Chuck, c'mon, are you gonna do something or what?!”

It’s incredibly irritating to realize that all the other people who’ve ever told him he’s fun to tease have been entirely right. Not irritating enough to make Chuck want to _stop,_ but--dammit. 

“Maybe,” he says, late and hoarse, and steers them around, steers the lean, delicate body Rich has given himself down onto the bed and smoothes Rich’s wings down under his back, so his weight keeps them pinned. Stares down at himself, this version of himself, taking in the heave of her chest and her wide, dark, vampire eyes, the flick of her ears, and then gives in and ducks down over Rich on the bed to get his mouth back on his nipples, crooning out soft little vampire noises against his skin, wings mantling over them. Mumbles something about “... _Kinky motherfucker,_ ” but can’t quite manage to take his mouth away to do it.

Rich arches into him, squirms on his pinned wings and moans high and desperate. “ _Shit_ ,” he gasps, “that's, it feels so--” he breaks off into a chittering whine, spreading his legs. “I, I need--the fuck did you do, am I in _heat?_ Nnn _fuck,_ please, c'mon!”

“Breeding reflex,” Chuck mumbles, and nuzzles into Rich’s throat, following the pulse with his lips and tongue, grooming as gently as he can when his whole body is singing _flip her over and pin her wings and_ take-- _“_ Vampires don’t--don’t have, heat cycles, come on.” 

Rich pants a moment, neck arched to give Chuck better access, before he manages to say “ _I_ dunno, I didn't think they, there was, _mmh_ , a thing about wings either, but _apparently_ …” Rich's arm stretches over Chuck's shoulder and there's a light touch along the top of his wing, vanishing when Rich groans and squirms again. “Man, this is so unfair, you're not even undressed yet! _Hahh_ , come on, get naked already!”

"Why should I?" says Chuck, breathless and smug, "you already _got_ me naked." He gives Rich's chest a demonstrative grope and gets a squeak and moan in response. "What's my incentive?"

Rich glares at him, red-faced and flustered. “Oh, _I_ dunno,” he says, “fucking me, maybe?! Come on, you're enjoying those enough, but you haven't even investigated the rest yet!”

"Yeah, well, I'm enjoying myself," says Chuck, and smirks, nibbles at the side of Rich's neck. Echoing Rich's own words back at him, in the total smug knowledge that they're just as unhelpful now as they were when Rich said them to Chuck, a couple days ago. "Don't be in such a rush. Enjoy it for a second, _baby bat_." 

Rich moans in frustration. “I didn't even _do_ the wing trick with you, you dick! _Nnh_ , agh, fine! Do whatever, I'm gonna…” One hand slides between his slim thighs, touches cautiously, strokes with a slick sound.

Oh--shit, oh fuck, Chuck didn't even think about that part of this equation. Rich said "fuck me" but that's not--Chuck didn't think about it. Rich doesn't take female shapes all that often, and Chuck has only ever hooked up with him once when he has. He didn't think about the whole...pants situation. Or lack-of-pants, in this case.

He's distantly aware that he's making a chittering, chirring kind of noise--grabs Rich's thin wrists and pulls his hands away from himself, ignoring his shaky, protesting groan. Chuck nuzzles into his hip bone, presses Rich's hips down on the bed as they try to buck, chirps reprovingly at him and rubs a hand careful and firm between his legs, grinding with the heel of one hand--slicking the palm of his hand, _fuck._ Fucking hell.

Rich cries out and tries to buck again, chirping desperately, and Chuck holds him down. "...So," Chuck says, kind of dry-mouthed and wicked. "What are we up to, here?"

“ _Nngh_ , wha, ah, come _on!_ ” is Rich's contribution, one hand going distractedly to a breast to stroke back and forth over a nipple.

There has to be something...weird, something wrong, about the way looking at a version of himself is making Chuck want to--do, things, hold himself down and see how long it takes for him--for Rich, whatever, he wants to hear him _beg,_ he wants to try the stuff out people have done to him and see if it’s as much fun as they seemed to think it was. 

He ducks his head down, nudges Rich’s legs apart--spreads him open. He’s practiced on a couple of the PRTs that come around to the department, letting them guide his head and point out the right places to put his mouth--he nudges his nose against the bony jut of Rich’s hip bone, kisses the crease of one hip, and then essays a careful lick against--just, the whole thing, kind of testing, figuring it out as he goes.

Rich pretty much shrieks, squirming up against Chuck's tongue like it's the best thing he's felt. “ _Fuck!_ Yeah,” he pants, “yeah, you can, like that, hell yeah.” His other hand comes up to his chest and now he's playing with both breasts, stroking them and brushing against the nipples, his back arching, hips rolling eagerly. Of course he's shameless, it's not his fucking body. Chuck pulls his mouth away and nips the inside of one thigh instead, in payback--gets distracted pressing his face against the smooth skin, breathing in the sense of blood pulsing strong under the surface. There’s an artery there, a few thick veins, deep but he could reach them, and it’s harder than he would’ve expected to tear himself away. It’s been...a while, since he had something that wasn’t a lukewarm company-issued plasma pack. 

“...Hey,” he says, soft and kind of blurry against Rich’s skin because he can’t quite bring himself to pull his face away. “Can I, uh…” Traces his mouth up the line of the vein, wet and open, fangs scraping, one hand holding on tight to Rich’s knee to keep his leg still as it twitches and jerks.

“Oh,” Rich says, breathless, “yeah, okay, go for it.” His hips twitch, then go still again.

Chuck makes himself take a long time before he goes for it, sucking on the place he’s going to bite, letting it numb--he’s going to have to bite deep, the least he can do is make sure it feels good more than it stings. Rich is shivering, trying to roll his hips against Chuck’s weight on his legs, by the time Chuck lays one last careful, grateful kiss against the skin and bites down hard and sure, muscle twitching against his tongue until he finally feels the bite connect, feels hot blood flood into his mouth. _God,_ fuck, that’s so good, there are no fucking _words._ He never realizes how relentlessly hungry he is until somebody takes pity on him and offers some real, actual blood.

Rich makes a soft chirring sound and then a dazed little moan and goes pretty much limp. “Oh,” he mumbles, “oh fuck, I… 'kay.” From the corner of his eye, Chuck sees Rich’s hands go still on his chest, his eyes sag half-closed.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says again, softer, and sighs. “Feels different. 'S nice.”

It does feel different--the sound of the noises Rich is making, the feeling of one pinned wing fluttering faintly against one of Chuck’s elbows--it feels different, and softer, and more intense at the same time. It feels like he’s something soft and precious and vulnerable Chuck wants to tease and drink from and curl up around. It feels like if somebody came in and tried to pull them apart, Chuck would probably rip their head off. 

He’s making a weird steady crooning noise that he hasn’t heard himself make before, too, and his wings keep flaring lazily wide and then mantling again, as slow and involuntary as the tense and relax of his thighs as the pleasure rolls gently through him. He slides a hand up the opposite thigh, pressing a few fingertips at the vein on the other side, and then strokes the tip of his thumb up into the place his tongue was, searching around until he can run it gently back and forth over the place Rich liked so much a second ago.

Rich moans high and shivery, hips quivering. “Fuck,” he gasps, “ _hnnh_ , I messed up, 's way too, made that too sssensi- _ahh!_ -tive, _fuck!_ ” He pants for a minute, spine doing a slow, languid roll up against the touch, and his voice is hushed and amazed. “ _Chuck_ , goddamn. 'S really good.”

...Chuck’s also feeling _incredibly_ smug, but that’s probably not a vampire thing. He hums against the jumping muscle in Rich’s thigh, still drinking, hot mouthfuls of blood rich and alive and somehow new on every mouthful, like Rich’s always is--a subtly different flavor every second, impossible to pin down. Keeps teasing, occasionally running his thumb down to gather some more slick onto his skin and then going back to rubbing gentle patterns back and forth, up and down. Tasting the arousal as it slowly grows, hormones welling up sweet and strong in Rich’s blood.

Rich whimpers and shivers and chirps, alternating between going slack when Chuck draws particularly deeply and squirming more when he tries a new pattern with his thumb. From the way Rich keeps shivering back into motion, he just can't surround it all, and he's kind of amazing to watch.

Chuck drinks his fill and makes sure to close the bite well, keeping his mouth soft--it’ll bruise, probably, he had to go pretty deep, but there’s no way he’s risking some kind of uncontrolled bleed, not when this has been so great and he’s still got Rich soft and gasping and pinned down under him. That soft, possessive feeling keeps him crooning softly as he kisses the bite shut, nuzzling at the crease of Rich’s thigh, nipping at him with fangs that are much shorter and blunter than they were a second ago. God, it feels so good to be full.

There’s gratitude mixed in with all the weird, soft things he’s feeling, too, which is why when he’s done licking the bite shut he shifts back over and replaces his thumb with his tongue, sliding his slick hand down to press a finger gently up and in and give a few slow, hopeful strokes, testing the waters.

“ _Oh god,_ ” Rich says, hips rolling up hard, and his shaking hands come down to Chuck's head to keep him in place. “Fuck yes please that, more,” he babbles, and when he rolls his hips up again his skin is the wrong shade for a second, a different undertone of pale, more like Rich’s normal coloring than Chuck’s. Chuck grins, encouraged, and follows orders, keeping his fangs carefully out of the way and working in another finger careful and slow until he can start stroking them steadily in and out in the same quick rhythm as his tongue.

Rich chirrs high and needy, back arching, hands clamping on Chuck's head. He rides Chuck's tongue and fingers for a minute, muscles shaking as he lets out all sorts of desperate little vampire noises. Abruptly the chirping turns into high, gasping moans, the skin tone slides into the wrong paleness again, and the wiry blond hair tickling Chuck's nose turns blood red.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Rich hisses, and shudders through what looks like a _spectacular_ orgasm.

Chuck keeps doing what he’s doing as long as he can, until Rich is making a whole other delicious set of desperate little whimpering noises and pushing at his head--then he sits up, licking his lips and feeling incredibly pleased with himself, and enjoys the picture for a second. Rich is still in his original colors, milky-pale and flushed all the way to his feet; hair long and in his eyes like Chuck’s, but deep red. His chest is still heaving, but when he sees Chuck looking down at him he shivers and his colors shift, wavering back and forth, hair going reddish-gold and then deep orange and then finally back to blonde, freckles racing across his skin in strange, there-and-gone-again waves. 

“...I heard girls can go for two,” Chuck says, and slides a hand up the inside of Rich’s thigh, shaking his hair back for a second so Rich can see him wiggling his eyebrows.

Rich's eyes widen and he gives a shaky laugh. “That's very funny, Squeaks, I'm good, thanks! Also, you're _still not naked_ , what the fuck kind of kinky having-sex-with-yourself deal _is_ this?! Where are your fucking manners?” He goes to lean up on one elbow, puts it on a folded wing membrane and yelps in distress, then flops back again glaring. “Shirt off already! And pants, unless that climax was purest altruism on your part, and don't tell me it was, I'm too out of breath to laugh that hard.”

“I can be altruistic,” Chuck says, grinning, and sends his wings away for a minute to pull his shirt off, riding high enough on a stomach full of blood and a really hopeful boner, the self-consciousness barely makes a dent. “You don’t know.” He peels his pants off, shoves them off the bed, crawls back up between Rich’s knees and makes another attempt to slide his fingers back in, slow enough Rich can swat his hand away and growl at him. “Come on, it’s _science._ ”

“We can science later! Once you've had one and we're even!” Rich retorts, and sits up more carefully this time, flicking his wings away in what looks like the same way Chuck does. “Oh, right,” he says, brightening up as Chuck's eyes track them vanishing, “turns out in vampire form I can access wing space, so I don't have to shift them there and gone every time, I can just store them like you do! Isn't that _cool?_ ”

“That’s _stupid_ cool,” Chuck says, abruptly distracted from his dick by magophysiology. “You gotta tell Liam, dude, fuck, he’ll write so many illegal papers. Nobody’s done nearly enough research on shifters, your biology is so fucking ridiculous.” He shrugs, flutters his wings up unevenly. “...Says the guy who drinks blood, I guess.”

“I _know_ ,” Rich says, snickering. “Magic is dumb, and deviant anatomy and physics is _so_ dumb, it's great.” He straightens up, dark eyes dropping to Chuck's dick and lingering as he licks his lips. “So. Uh, I might need to get rid of these fangs, unless you want an impromptu piercing,” he says apologetically.

“Oh no,” says Chuck, abruptly kind of breathless, and totally fails to sound upset. “The--fucking-- _verisimilitude,_ Rich, where’s your artistic integrity? How am I gonna finish if I’m not in danger of getting my dick sawed off by my own fangs the whole time?”

Caught by surprise, Rich makes a ridiculous snorting sound as he bursts into laughter. Still snickering, he punches Chuck in the shoulder, one of the few behaviors left over from his brief stay in the Junior Cadets, although at least he's learned how to do _gentle and playful_ rather than bruisingly hard.

“Well good, I'd hate to kill your boner through imperfect immersion!”

“What boner?” Chuck says, totally straight-faced. “What kind of pervert would get off on eating himself out, Merrill, don’t be gross. Hurry up and blow me already.”

Rich dissolves into what Chuck has to admit, from this side, are giggles. Maybe it's because he's a girl. Chuck is gonna go with that.

“Blow what?” Rich gasps, and pokes Chuck's dick with a finger. “This totally flaccid and uninterested dick here? Sure, no problem, man, I got it.” He puts a hand on Chuck's chest to push him over and pauses suddenly, a gleam waking in his eye. Kneeling up, he reaches over to pull Chuck's wings in tight to his back, then pushes.

“Lie back,” he says, and Chuck gets to see what _smug_ looks like on his own face.

“Yeah _fine,_ ” says Chuck, long-suffering, like he’s not already breathless feeling his wings pressed in close against his back. “But if you ever say the word _flaccid_ again, I’m gonna _hha,_ I’m, gonna-- You’re gonna regret it.” God, he doesn’t take his wings out very often and when he does, lying down on them isn’t really the top thing on his mind--it feels _good,_ makes something go tight and expectant all the way from his aching fangs to his aching dick. He does steal some of Rich’s pillows on the way down--props himself up on them, so he can see Rich’s dark eyes and the flick and twitch of his ears.

Rich flashes him a fangy smirk before folding over and just swallowing Chuck's dick like it's easy, all heat and suction and the pressure of a gliding tongue and no fangs in evidence at all by the feel of it. He hums, bobbing his head slowly, hands rubbing along Chuck's thighs, and Chuck makes an effort to be quiet and aloof for all of about two seconds before Rich swallows, the back of his throat working tight and slick around the head of Chuck’s dick, and Chuck kind of just doubles over him and lets the desperate keening and chirping and moaning come.

He closes his eyes at some point, squirming on the bed, arching into Rich’s mouth, and when he looks again it takes him an embarrassingly long time to notice something is different. 

Rich is still bent over him, pulled back to breathe, tongue working steadily against the tip of Chuck’s dick, and he’s still wearing Chuck’s face, and he still looks incredibly, stupidly hot doing it, but something’s...different. Chuck stares dazedly at the pink, slick lips, the big dark eyes, the long eyelashes and fluttering ears, and then blinks and looks again as Rich braces himself on his elbows and arches his back--flat-chested, shoulders broader than they were, hair a little shorter. Before it was like looking at a strangely distorted copy--now it’s like Chuck’s looking at himself in the mirror, and he looks--

“Wh,” Chuck gets out, and whimpers as Rich glances up, a flash of his own eyes through tousled bangs. “How did, wh’d you do to my, I d-don’t look like--”

“Oh _I'm_ sorry,” Rich says, replacing his mouth with his hand as he glares incredulously at Chuck--Chuck's own _why are you bothering me with this_ glower, this is so weird, “are you saying I got you _wrong?_ One of the people I see on a daily basis, whose face I know down to the fucking _freckle_ , you think I like, messed this up?” He shakes his head, apparently caught between amusement and indignation. “Give me some credit, man, geez.” 

“But I,” Chuck says, and jerks, heels dragging and head snapping back, as Rich gives his dick a particularly slow, tight stroke, almost painful, toe-curlingly good. “I don’t look like that I’m not--hot, I’m--! You look-- _Fuck!_ Ah, _god_!”

Rich is rolling his eyes when Chuck looks back at him, snorting softly. “Amazing, he finally notices the obvious. Good work, genius, you're hot! And it only took some illegal use of deviant powers for you to get it! Although you still haven't gotten it, huh.” He drops his head to suck on the head of Chuck's dick, looking up at Chuck through thick gold lashes. “How ‘bout now?” he says against slick skin, and sucks again.

“Oh,” says Chuck, half a whimper, and bucks up into Rich’s mouth, drags a hand at his hair, struggling to breathe around the heavy block of--something, that seems to have taken up residence where his lungs are. “I, I’m, _oh_ , fuck--” He can’t find anything wrong, anything Rich did wrong to make him not look like himself, but he doesn’t _look_ like that, flushed and intent and-- _sexy,_ and he can’t figure out how to express the combination of bewilderment and hurt and confusion and flustered, tentative pride that’s happening inside him. Rich being _really_ good at blowjobs is not making this any easier to process, fucking hell. “Rich, I’m--please--”

Rich makes a muffled noise and pulls off again, blinking up at him, hand stroking gently. “Wassup, baby boy? You okay?” he says, confusion starting to shift into worry.

“I,” Chuck says, and blinks fast, hips shivering, rolling into Rich’s hand--he wants to fuck his own mouth again, and trying to wrap his head around it is making something almost panicky pull strangling-tight around his chest and throat. “I dunno, I, it’s just...a lot, I dunno, I’m just-- I’m _not._ I’m not…” His eyes catch on the line of Rich’s throat, his collarbones. “I’m _not,_ ” he says, almost plaintively, and drops his head back on the pillow, breathing through it. He’s not going to fucking _cry_ about this, no matter how much his hormones are fucking with his brain right now, he’s not doing it. 

“Uh, shit,” Rich says. “Um.” His hand pauses mid-stroke. “Should I stop? Or shift back, or something?” He hesitates. “A hug?” he suggests helplessly.

Chuck groans, shivers, curses under his breath. “No, I,” he gets out, and drags a hand up, covers his face. Manages, “...you think-- You think I look like that, is that--you’re not fffucking, with me, you m-mean it?”

Even the pause sounds bewildered before Rich says, “Yeah? _Obviously_ , man, I wouldn't--I don't--not during _sex_ , I wouldn't fuck with you like this!”

He means it, he thinks--even if he changed something, it’s because that’s what he thinks Chuck looks like. Chuck takes a couple of deep breaths, getting himself together, trying to absorb that, and then sniffs and then laughs, a little weak but genuine, disbelieving. 

“Wow,” he says, very quietly, and squirms a little so he can press a knee to Rich’s side, grinning. “Ha. Wow.”

Rich snorts quietly, relaxing some. “Damn, baby boy, you gotta have more faith in me, okay, I'm _good_ at this shit! This is a high-accuracy mirror here, perfect representation of reality! Not my fault this shape is hot, it came that way!” Then he ducks down and sucks Chuck's dick in again.

Chuck laughs, small and wheezy, and then moans, lets himself lift his hips into the pleasure and pushes his hands shakily through his hair. 

“Cheesy,” he mumbles, small and shaky, and chirps softly. “You’re such a, such a nnnerd--! Mnh! Ahh _fuck._ ‘S like you like me or something, f’r sssome reason, _ah_.”

“Right?” Rich says, hand stroking quick and firm. “How unlikely would _that_ be, you know I only ever have hate sex.” He takes Chuck all the way to the base and swallows again and again, and Chuck forces his eyes open, looks down, watches his own throat work. Watches the way his mouth fits and flushes and the flutter of his eyelashes as Rich swallows and _moans_ , and Chuck echoes the noise back at him, startled by the throb of sudden inevitability. Comes, _hard_ , arching off the bed and digging his nails into the sheets, keening loud and needy and blissful and it’s so _so_ good.

Rich keeps sucking gently and licking at the head of his dick until Chuck goes through all the aftershocks and out the other side, and then pulls off and sits up, a mix of smugness and badly hidden concern on his borrowed face. Chuck is almost positive he hides his thoughts better than Rich, the guy is transparent.

“So,” Rich says, and lies down half on top of Chuck to kiss him. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” Chuck curls into him, nuzzles into his hair, sucks at the curve of one ear to feel Rich shudder. “...C’n I have original-flavor back?”

“Oh gee, I dunno, man, you enjoyed yourself so much, I don't wanna deny you the pleasure or anything,” Rich says, but his voice is changing even as he speaks, dropping from high, airy tenor to baritone. His weight on top of Chuck grows, shoulders and all of him widening, the heavy bulk of his muscle pressing Chuck into the bed. The hair Chuck has his face in darkens to deep red, but doesn't get any shorter.

Rich kisses him again, and when he pulls back his eyes are that bright, familiar green, a color just a little too pure to be human. “Better?” he asks, and his grin looks a little shy, pleased.

“Nice,” says Chuck, and combs his fingers through Rich’s hair, brushing it back from his face. “...’S not a bad look.” Pulls it back into a ponytail, then lets it go and pinches Rich’s earlobe, gives it a tug. “Dumbass.” Kisses his forehead, then his cheek, then wriggles down to kiss him on the lips. 

Rich hums into the kiss, then pouts at him. “Fuck you! Why am I a dumbass now? _You're_ the one who didn't even know you were hot!”

It kind of stings, but it’s easier to breathe through it now that he’s not strung out on the shaky edge of an orgasm. Chuck bares a few fangs at him sulkily, and prickles the shell of Rich’s ear with his fangs instead, nibbling on him to make Rich's breath catch and shiver. “Stop being a dick,” he mumbles, and sucks on the earlobe he pinched, which gets a whimper, then pinches Rich on the ribs. “You’re ruining my post-coital glow or whatever. Be romantic for like five seconds, for once in your life.”

Rich huffs at him breathlessly and ducks to put his face in Chuck's neck. “I couldn't be romantic if you fuckin’ paid me,” he mumbles, nuzzling gently. “'S probably why Liam will never date me.”

“Yeah?” Chuck leans up a little, glances down at Rich, blinking, fascinated. “You’d wanna? Date somebody, for real, I mean?”

Rich raises his head to frown at Chuck. “I. Yeah? I mean. Doesn't everybody?” His face is flushing, and as it spreads to his ears and down his neck he hides it in Chuck's hair. 

“I mean, yeah, sure, but...y’know.” Chuck shrugs, messes with Rich’s hair. Trails his nails over the back of Rich’s neck, up his scalp. It’s not really something they do, talking about stuff like this. Emotions are rough and weird and hard to talk about. “One of the guys, I mean?”

“Okay, yeah, but there's guys and guys, you know,” Rich says, coming back out of hiding to shrug. He's still not meeting Chuck's eyes for long, but his blush looks a little less violent. “How the fuck am I gonna get to know a girl like I know you guys, right? So, like. Yeah, I wouldn't date like, _most_ of them, but a couple, there's, it's… I've thought about it, yeah.” He shrugs again, eyes firmly on Chuck's collarbone.

“Huh.” Chuck drops his head back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling instead. Swallows, and then breathes out and gets the words together. Because--shit, because Rich is a good guy, and that’s...wow. “Well, I mean--any of the good ones would be pretty lucky to get you, y’know.” Being genuine is stupidly hard, wow, Chuck’s...super bad at this. “You’re a handsome guy, y’know, you’re--smart, and cool, and...fun. So...that’d be pretty cool. You better pick somebody good.”

There's what seems like an incredibly long silence. Eventually Chuck _has_ to take his eyes off the ceiling just to see if Rich is glaring or giving him a pitying look or what.

Rich, it turns out, is staring at Chuck, frozen. The blush is completely gone and he actually looks paler than usual, which is saying something. He drops his eyes, licks his lips, opens his mouth and sticks like that, huffs a soft breath and tries again. Fails to get any words out.

Chuck has seen Rich scared before, when Security comes through and Rich is about to try to step between them and whoever they're focused on, or when Larsson comes down to the department. But they’re just... _talking,_ and however bad Rich is with feelings, there’s no way he should look scared just...talking. 

“Hey,” says Chuck, worried. “You, uh...you okay, man? Sorry, did I say something--?”

“No,” Rich forces out, strained and annoyed, “I'm _fine_.” He growls, thumps his forehead down on Chuck's collarbone. “I'm an idiot, but I'm fine,” he mutters. “I'm just a fucking coward.”

Chuck opens his mouth to answer that, then stops. Sighs. Some things he can help with, and some stuff he just...doesn’t have the first fucking clue. “Yeah,” he says. “I know the feeling, dude.” Strokes Rich’s hair back carefully, gives his ear another hopeful tug, teasing a little. “Things got a little bit real for a second, huh.”

Rich sighs, and it could be agreement or self-disgust, Chuck can't tell. “Fuckin’... fuck,” Rich says. His forehead is still on its bony headrest, so Chuck is staring at the top of his head when he says, “You could get lucky.”

“You sure?” says Chuck, laughing just a little, and hitches his hips up against Rich’s. “Doesn’t feel like you’re in the mood, bro.”

“Well, I _was_ ,” Rich grumbles, and takes a long breath. “I meant, what you said. You said they'd be lucky. To have me, so.” He still doesn't look up, and Chuck can feel how tight his whole body is drawn, muscles rigid. “You could, you could be. Lucky. 'F you wanted.”

Chuck opens his mouth to laugh, and then it’s his turn to go frozen, staring, as it sinks in. He knows Rich pretty damn well--knows when he’s scared, and knows when he’s joking, and he’s definitely not joking, and his breath is shaking faintly against Chuck’s collarbone. He’s serious. He’s serious, and he’s fucking--terrified about it, and Chuck’s whole worldview just kind of spun around and shifted so abruptly he’s breathless.

“Wh… _Oh,_ ” he says, kind of half-gasping. Swallows and tries to say something and just makes a helpless little noise instead. “But-- _me?_ But I thought-- What, _me?_ ”

 _Now_ Rich lifts his head to glare at Chuck. “Yes! Fucking _you!_ Okay?! God!” It's a fierce look, but it's kind of ruined by the shakiness at the corners of his mouth. Chuck stares at him, taking in the familiar face, the unfamiliar expression, recontextualizing every time Rich has ever... _anything,_ held onto him a little longer than normal after a hook-up, found an excuse to hang out in Chuck’s cubicle and shoot the breeze with him. God, Chuck is...such a dumbass.

“Wow,” says Chuck, very quietly, before he can stop himself. “Ha-- _Wow._ ”

The fierceness drops off Rich's face as his eyes widen and he licks his lips. “‘Wow,’ okay, that's a good thing… yeah?”

“Fuck,” says Chuck, half-laughing, and grabs a handful of Rich’s hair, tugs him up to kiss him hard and deep, laughs into his mouth, baffled and scared and _excited._ Rich moans into it like Chuck is sucking an earlobe, or his dick.“You’re-- _Me,_ I mean, I’m, you seriously want-- _Wow._ ” Kissing doesn’t feel right, like enough--Chuck pushes himself up, wraps both arms around Rich’s shoulders and squeezes hard, just kind of...giggles breathlessly into his hair. Rich's arms come around him almost tentatively, like Chuck has suddenly become something fragile and delicate--or precious, maybe.

“Okay,” Rich whispers, and Chuck can feel his chest expand as he breathes slow and deep, like he's trying to calm down after a panic attack. “Okay, okay.” He squeezes Chuck tighter and tighter like a very gradual and snuggly vice, pulling Chuck into his lap, gasping in slow breaths, and it takes a while for his grip to loosen.

“Fuck,” he says, very quietly. “I didn't--I thought you wouldn't--okay. Okay, cool.”

“...You’re such a nerd,” Chuck mumbles, and presses his cheek against Rich’s temple, rubs up against him like a dumbass and can’t quite hold back the happy little chirp under his voice. “...’S like you like me for some reason, or something. Ha! C’mere you _doof,_ c’mere--” 

He has to squirm around a little in Rich’s--still pretty tight--grip before he can get down to face level and kiss him again, petting his back, still feeling all sorts of...breathless, and weird and scared and incredibly pleased with himself. Excited, terrified, breathlessly affectionate. He’s not exactly sure what--how this is gonna go, how to do it, if he’ll be any good at it, but he knows that Rich needs to be thoroughly kissed, like, _right now,_ and he knows he can do that, fuck. He can definitely do that.

Rich seems decidedly appreciative of his efforts, moaning softly into the kiss. He can't seem to decide if he wants to hold Chuck lightly like the most delicate of scale models or clutch him close, hands tight on his back, his hip, and keeps switching from one to the other.

He's panting when Chuck finally breaks off, and Rich shivers and pushes his face into Chuck's neck. They're pressed close enough together that Chuck can tell Rich's body is rapidly regaining interest.

“So hey,” Rich says, quiet and husky. “You wanna fuck me?”

“Well I dunno,” Chuck says, and nips at his ear, traces it with the tip of his tongue. His voice feels all weird and squeaky, and he can’t tell if that’s how he’s always sounded or if he’s being weird, making it weird. “Are you saying you _want_ me to fuck you? ‘S a tall order, but I think I could be persuaded.”

“Oh, you could be _persuaded_ , _I_ see how it i-iis!” Rich says, voice hitching on the last word as Chuck licks his ear again. “Hnh--here I'm offering to give him my body, and he needs _persuading_. I dunno, maybe the spark in this relationship has gone out, man… Yes, _obviously_ I want you to fuck me, dumbass, god.”

“Oh my god, _give me your body_ , what is this, one of those awful novels Miguel smuggles up from the ground floor?” Chuck sniggers, but he pulls back with one last long suck on Rich’s ear, relishing the way he shudders and the twitch of his dick against Chuck’s thigh. “Well okay then, yes, I’m prepared to donate my dick to the cause. You want me on top, or back on the bed, or…?”

“Uh,” Rich says, blinking at him, and blushes. “Whatever? I dunno. What shape do you want, this one or girl?”

“Uh...huh.” Chuck blinks, and then glances down, thoughtful. “...I mean, your dick is great, and I don’t wanna miss it, but, uh...I dunno, do you wanna deal with going and getting lube and stuff? Girls have it pretty easy, on the, uh. The getting fucked part.”

“They totally fucking do,” Rich says fervently, and if Chuck didn't know better, he'd say Rich looks kind of eager as he grins at Chuck. Eager and _shy_ , huh. “Okay, cool.” He licks his lips and swallows and--shifts. Only a little, though, arms a hair slimmer, waist an eyelash narrower, hips a _lot_ rounder and broader, and nice round breasts. The hard jawline is much reduced, the lips a little fuller. It's very much Rich-as-a-girl, not the slim, curved, leggy model with red hair he shifted to the last time this happened.

He swallows, eyes wide on Chuck's face, and shrugs one broad, muscular shoulder. “This good, or you want something prettier?”

Chuck’s emotional fluency is not... _great,_ but he’s not stupid either. He can tell when somebody’s acting like something’s not a big deal and it totally is a huge glaring deal. This shape is more like Rich than any other female shape he’s ever seen Rich use, and he was shy about shifting to it even when they’re literally in bed naked already, so it’s gotta be...personal, somehow? If there’s something wrong with it, Chuck certainly can’t see it.

“Hell yeah that’s good,” he says, and kneels up on the bed to trace a hand cautiously down the curve of one sturdy arm, feeling the muscle shift a little under his hand. Rich is holding still enough he's practically holding his breath, eyes fixed on Chuck. Chuck hesitates, feeling his face flush stupidly, and then slides his hand over and glances up, kind of hovering it next to one breast and giving Rich a hopeful, red-faced look in lieu of actually getting the words out. “Can, uh…?”

Rich laughs and the tension strung through him slides away all at once. “Yes,” he snickers, “you can play with my boobs, man.” He flops onto his back, folds his hands behind his head, bends one knee up and shrugs that mock-casual shrug again. “You can play with whatever you want; you're my boyfriend, right?” Like actually saying the word was too much for him, he blushes.

Chuck would normally laugh at him for the blushing part, except his response is a tight, squeaky little “h _hee!_ ” noise and his own boiling-hot blush, up to the tips of his ears and down the sides of his neck. He doesn’t blush all over like Rich does, but it’s _plenty_ , like--it’s enough. To get the point across. Plus, there’s a whole naked girl in bed with him now, and Chuck may be pretty non-discriminating as far as what bits are connected to the people he gets off with, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to getting flustered around a pair of boobs.

“Fuck!” he says, brighter and gigglier than he kind of means to, and drops down on top of Rich to kiss him some more, feeling out the new shape of him, the slight differences in the pitch of the noises he makes and the new softness on his chest when Chuck presses up against him. 

“And--you’re my--” Chuck manages--pulls back, breathing hard, and hesitates for a second. Thinks about how right this shape looks, and how nervous Rich looked to show it to him. “...date...friend?” he finishes, kind of lamely, and scrubs a hand at his hair. “Boyfriend? Uh...boyfriend, or…?”

Rich shrugs one shoulder. “Obviously your boyfriend in public, since, you know, illegal shifting. Your whatever in private.” He--she?--grins suddenly, shy again. “Datefriend. That's cute, I like it.” A broad hand on the back of Chuck's neck tugs him down for another kiss, and Rich moans quiet and pleased in that low alto voice. Chuck is seized by the sudden, pressing urge to find out what other noises have changed. He kisses...her, deep and long and then wiggles in closer and goes straight back to sucking on her ears, playing just the tips of his fangs past the shell of one and trying really hard not to get distracted by the boobs that are _right there,_ and-- _boobs._ Goddammit, he’s not sixteen anymore, he can focus with a pair of breasts within hand’s reach. 

Rich, it turns out, moans just as breathlessly in this shape, but whimpers a _lot_ higher when Chuck sucks and then breathes in her ear. The longer he teases at one ear and then the other, the more she moans and squirms, which is exactly the same, and her hands are kneading at his back the same as always.

“Mm?” says Chuck, after an especially nice, squeaky whimper, and transfers his nibbling to the side of Rich’s neck instead, sucks a little, then gives in and sucks harder, so it’ll leave a mark. “...What, you in a hurry or something?”

“ _Hnngh_ , fuck you,” she groans, which is also the same as usual. Rich will let Chuck get away with a _lot_ , edging-wise, but it doesn't mean he's always gracious about it. “Come on, man, didn't--weren't we talking about doing some science? Shouldn't we get started on that?”

“I mean, yeah,” Chuck says, and trails his mouth down past a collarbone, bites another mark there, gives in and lets himself get a handful of one breast, kneading gently, brushing a thumb past one nipple, which gets a pleased sigh and an arching back. “...But if we’re not bothering to go hunt down some lube, I gotta do things right. Make sure you’re, y’know. Ready. ‘S called being a _considerate boyfriend._ ”

Rich bursts out laughing, sounding startled again. “Oh is _that_ what you're doing,” she says, grinning. “Here _I_ thought you were just being a fucking tease, as usual. But no, my baby bat is finally grown. He can put other people before himself now, which means he's gonna get his mouth between my legs any minute now, _right?_ ”

“Aw, boo,” Chuck mumbles, and gets his mouth on the nipple he’s not playing with, plays his fangs over it very gently--pulls back and blows cool across it, watching smugly as it tightens. Rich shivers, gasping. “But you’ve got _these_ now, dude. Don’t worry, I learned my lesson; you gotta spend like half an hour messing around up here first.”

“What?!” Rich yelps. “No?! Who told you that! _Fuck_ that, man, I--” she pauses, raises her head to get a better view of Chuck's expression. “--Oh, fuck you, you little shit, you're messing with me!” Grinning, she lunges up off the bed, narrowly avoids acquiring a new nipple piercing by Chuck's fang, wraps an arm around his neck and noogies him, giggling.

“You--ffh--tied me up for like an _hour_ a week ago!” Chuck protests, and snorts as hair goes all over his face, in his mouth. “You said, and I _fucking quote,_ ‘I’m gonna take my time, and you’re gonna lie there and take it’--you _dick_!” He flails a wing at her, buffets her successfully in the head and then when that does approximately nothing, slides a hand between her thighs and presses hard, rubbing fast little circles with the heel of his hand.

“ _Hnnh!_ ” Rich says, and slumps against him, hips shivering and twitching up against his hand. “You, and you, fffuckin'--loved it!” she gasps. “You love that ssslow, teasing shit, don't--fuckin’ lie!” Open-mouthed and panting, she slides Chuck a quick sideways look like she's suddenly unsure about that, worried.

“Nah, it’s such a chore,” Chuck says, with a sardonic raised eyebrow. “That’s why I _literally ask for it,_ all the time.” People aren’t supposed to point it out, fuck. He’s supposed to be allowed to squirm and writhe and bitch about it and everybody just kind of gets that he fucking loves being pushed and teased and forced to wait. That’s his _thing._ Then again, casual fuckbuddy sex was also a thing, and this is now...not that. So maybe talking is going to be something he has to get used to. “Okay fine, you win, but if you want my mouth for something, you gotta ask me nicely.”

Rich gives a shuddering moan, still grinding against his hand. “'Kay, fine,” she gasps, with an attempt at a glare. “Chuck, please suck my--uh. My… clit,” she finishes awkwardly, and flushes darker.

That...is a lot hotter than it has any right to be. “Yeah, okay,” Chuck says, and he’s going for “casual” but it comes out kind of breathless and chirpy instead. He shuffles back on the bed, out of reach of Rich’s arms, and settles down between her thighs instead, shouldering them further open as Rich drops back onto her elbows and then onto her back with a soft, pleased groan in the back of her throat. God, she’s still got all the muscle Chuck’s used to Rich having and there’s something really hot about sliding a hand up the inside of her thigh, stroking a few fingertips teasingly along her slit and feeling all that tight muscle tense and shiver. Chuck considers for a second, then finds her clit with a few fingers--pinches it very gently, pulls until it slips out from between his fingertips. “Right there?” he says innocently, like he just has to make sure before he gets started.

“ _Ah_ ,” Rich says, and gasps for breath. “Fuck, you little- _-nngh_ , baby _bat_ , come _on!_ Please?! Fuck! I just wanna get, nnh, ready enough to _fuck_ you, okay?!”

Chuck might have bad self-confidence and the self-esteem of an especially ugly Lake Michigan mutant, but he’s definitely not above feeling smug, and holy shit, he is definitely feeling smug. It’s a good fucking day to be him. 

“Yeah?” he says, a breathless croon under the word, and slides a finger in--then another one, when the first one goes in smooth as a dream. Figures out, with some situating, how to slick up his thumb and then get that on her clit, and Rich whimpers and writhes. “...Fuck, dude. You’re--” he chokes on the words, catches on a self-conscious little chitter and then finishes, softer and more genuine than he meant to. “...you’re so pretty like this.”

Rich catches her breath, lifts her head, staring at him kind of wild-eyed, and then drops back and moans full-throated, shivering all over. “Fuck,” she says, breathless and a little choked. “Okay, you're, you've got the, the considerate thing, got it down. _Fuck_ , Chuck.”

“Yeah?” Rich is big enough he doesn’t usually have to let Chuck get the upper hand on him when he’s in his full-sized form--she may have breasts and a clit right now, but she’s still enough like the snarky, pushy guy Chuck is used to to make it a heady rush, feeling her shudder around his fingers like this. Chuck presses down on her clit firmly--not too hard, but hard enough to jolt through Rich like electricity, snapping her spine up off the bed. “...You still want my mouth, dude?”

“Fuck,” she pants, fingers digging into the bed, “uh--yeah? Just--one? And then you can fuck me, god… Just, uh--” She pushes up on one elbow and after a second Chuck realizes she's looking for a kiss. He takes his fingers back, leaving one of them on her clit, and does his best to keep relentlessly stroking as he strains up to reach her mouth and lets her kiss him hard--kisses her back, both of them moaning or chirping or gasping into it.

“Nice,” Chuck says when he pulls back, like an idiot, and then ducks down to hide his blush and chews on her breasts a little more in passing, gives each nipple a suck, a nip and a tug before scooting back down and resting a hand on the inside of each thigh, spreading her open a little with his thumbs, wetting his lips as she wriggles and moans.

“You should, uh,” he trails off, feels his face flame again--jerks his head. “It was, uh. Was hot, when. Before, when I did this and you were, y’know, messing around, with…”

She blinks hazily down at him and then snorts, grinning. “My boobs, except they were your boobs? I dunno, man, you did seem to like that--maybe I should get yours back again, huh?” She cups her breasts, which are twice or three times the size of Chuck's presumptive boobs, well-suited to the breadth of her ribcage. Her thumbs rub over both nipples and she husks out a breath, rolls her hips. “Is that anywhere near as good? Did I trade in for an inferior model?” she says, grinning, and he's pretty sure it's 95% rhetorical, that she's confident he likes her own boobs fine, thanks. Or it might be only 90%. Not a margin of error he likes, not when she’s obviously weirdly insecure about this, about...her, about herself. 

“They’re good,” says Chuck, because he’s a programmer, dammit, not a poet, and also he’s watching his--girlfriend?--touch herself because he asked her to, and his brain is maybe not the most functional right now. “They’re great, they’re perfect, fuck, dude. That’s--stupid hot, they’re hot, they’re great. Shit.”

He’s said his piece. Chuck ducks down and nuzzles against her pubic bone, face burning, and then puts his tongue to work on her clit instead of on embarrassing himself any further.

Rich seems to appreciate it, like, a _lot_. She's maybe not as loud as she was as girl-Chuck, and she doesn't hit orgasm in like thirty seconds, but then, she doesn't have the advantage of the mating reflex of pinned wings either. And just because she's not _as_ loud doesn't mean she isn't vocal, moaning and gasping and whimpering with every motion of Chuck's tongue and lips.

Her hands stroke and massage her breasts, rolling and pulling at her nipples, and her hips roll up against Chuck's mouth, jerking and shivering. She's flushed all the way down to her calves and her face is sweaty, her unaccustomed length of red hair splayed messily against the blankets, her green eyes dazed and half-lidded.

Chuck starts to get the hang of it after a while--no prostate, but he finds the spots inside that work just as well, gives her firm, steady pressure and flicks his tongue against her clit. Feels the tension start to wind up tighter, her muscles drawing tense, the slick clench and shiver around his fingers getting faster and less regular as her hips start to roll urgently into his touch.

Boy-Rich doesn't have the same proclivity for grabbing Chuck's head to hold his mouth in place, Chuck decides as she grinds up on his fingers and tongue. She’s pressing him down against her hard enough his jaw aches, but it feels--good, kind of in the same way it does when he takes Rich’s dick in his other shape. Being used, making him--or her--feel good, until it aches. He lets himself be pulled, seals his lips around her clit and sucks sharply. Rich keens for a moment, and then her voice cuts out and she just shakes, eyes open wide until they snap shut.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moans, and goes limp on the bed. Chuck lets his mouth go still--wiggles his fingers just a little, teasing at that spot inside her, and coaxes a twitching aftershock out of her before Rich pushes at him, gasping. 

God, his dick is fucking _aching._ Chuck fidgets, not sure--the PRTs would always say when they were ready to go again, but the whole point they were just talking about was that he’d fuck her when she was done, but what if girls can’t handle it that soon after? Fuck, he really doesn’t wanna hurt her.

“Nnh, holy fuck,” she groans after a couple minutes, and opens her eyes. Blinks up at him, reaches clumsily to pull him down for another kiss, this one blissed out and languid.

“ _Fuck_ , man,” she sighs, and flops back with a sleepy grin. “Okay, fuck me.”

Some part of Chuck is pretty sure he should be like “are you sure?” but god, yes, fuck, finally. He slides his fingers back in, slicks them up and then gives his dick a couple of brief strokes before lining up and very carefully pressing in.

He’s done this once or twice with PRTs before, but none of them have ever been his-- _his,_ none of them have ever been there because they picked Chuck, specifically, because they _liked_ him. It doesn’t seem like it should make that much of a difference, but it makes enough of one it’s hard to hold on, to keep himself from just slamming in hard and fast and coming in about two seconds flat. He can hold out, he’s _good_ at holding out, but--god, she’s pretty and she’s _Rich,_ and _Rich_ wants _him._

“...Okay?” he manages, and makes himself pause, hip bones flush against her skin, shaking a little with the effort of holding still, refusing to move yet. “You, _nnh,_ o-okay?”

“Hhh fuck,” she says hoarsely, and wraps her legs around him, heels pressing against his butt. “Hhhave I mentioned recently you have a _nice_ dick. God, yes, good, lets go!”

“I mean, you could always mention it more,” Chuck manages, shaky, and essays a slow, careful thrust, bites his lip hard and lets out a quivering whine. “H _hnn, ah..._ ah, fuck, _Rich,_ fuck.” He doubles over her, keeps moving, sucks and licks at whatever’s in reach. The line of her breastbone, the swell of one breast, the tip of a nipple. Croons against her skin, half-sobbing, fighting to keep his pace steady and slow, to drag it out, to make himself work for every inch of the way.

Rich twists under him after a minute, groans impatiently, hips rolling up as her legs tug him in harder. “Man, I know you love this gradual marathon shit, but _faster?_ Please?”

“Did you already--forget what having a dick is like?” Chuck mumbles, but speeds up, fitting a hand down between them to press and stroke at her clit as he fucks her in fast, steady strokes.

“Oh, _oh!_ ” Rich yelps, and suddenly everything is a lot harder because she won't stop _writhing_ , heels digging into his back like that's going to help him keep rhythm or anything, hips rolling and twisting like it's almost too much or she needs more and can't figure out how to get it. “Fuck,” she pants, “god, _Chuck!_ Yes, fuck, just-- _nngh,_ ” and yes, no surprise, desperate noises now because he can't fucking keep his fingers on her clit when she's twisting like that, dammit. 

Chuck plants a hand on her belly and presses down, pins her as still as he can with all the vampiric strength he can manage and finally gets his fingers back on her, rubbing firmer and faster, now, giving up on holding out. If he can’t last long enough to get her to come on his dick, he can always play around after he’s done, it’s not like his hands will stop working. Whatever his stupid vampire instincts are crooning at him, _feel her taste her fill her fuck her make her come on your dick make her keen and scream and come for you._ A driving, pushing mess of instinct and greed that’s making it _really_ hard to focus.

“ _Come on,_ ” he mutters, and feels her hips push up against his hand, trying to buck as he fucks her hard and fast. His dick is aching, he can feel the tension and heat coiling tighter and tighter, he’s not lasting long like this. “Come on, you gotta, I wanna--see you, I wanna see, come on, fuck, I bet you look so hot, I wanna see you this time.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Rich says, high and shaky, and lets out a series of rising moans as her hips jerk and shudder under Chuck. Her hands land on his shoulders and sort of rest there, trembling faintly, her legs unclench from around him, her feet resting lightly on his back, and for a long minute he can feel her entire body shivering around him. Then she lets out a hard breath and jerks, one hand fastening on his shoulder as most of her goes limp.

“'S too, fingers, don't,” she gasps. Chuck jerks his fingers away, can’t quite make himself stop the frantic movement of his hips beyond a stuttering little pause in his rhythm. 

“Can, is, I’m so,” he gets out, barely knowing what he’s saying, bits and pieces of words coming out on the back of every gasping breath. “--’M so, so close, please, I’m, do you n-need me _ah_ to s, to ssstop _fuck,_ nnh--!”

Rich was saying something while he was asking, and now she snorts quietly, grinning hazily at him. “I _said_ ,” she says, curling her legs around him again, “go on, babe, come for me. 'S good, you're good.”

“I need,” Chuck starts, and stammers off as the words finally make it through--shudders, breath catching, hearing whatever he was about to say break into a shaky, needy keen. He doesn’t manage any more words--braces himself over her and fucks her hard for all of another minute before he’s finally coming, burying his face in her chest, doubling down over her and muffling a noise that’s barely short of a scream in her flushed, sweaty skin. 

He goes limp on top of her when he’s done, gasping and dazed and more than a little bit concussed with it all. Nuzzles at her, crooning. This is--good, it’s good, she’s his, he’s hers, She’s got him and she’s his and everybody will know now, now that he. Now that. 

“Nuh,” says Chuck, bleary with the first startling wisps of panic. “I, hnh, wait, you, you don’t have-- I mean, implant, or, you don’t have it, like the PRTs did, fuck!”

“Wha?” says Rich, blinking up at him. “Uh, no… oh. _Oh_ , ahaha, yeah, no,” she rubs at one eye, waving the other hand in unconcern. “I mean, come on, man, I spend all my time as a guy, nothing's gonna--I'd have to stay a girl to get knocked up. So. No, not happening, don't worry about it, Squeaks.” She grins and ruffles his hair, then wraps her arms around him and rolls them over on their sides, pulls him in close to pet his hair, stroke his back.

“God, _fuck_ that was good,” she sighs.

“Mmf,” says Chuck, and resists the urge to drop his face into her chest just to feel how soft it is. Fuck, is he going to make this weird? He’s probably gonna make this weird. It would be easier if Rich was--like Chuck was used to, a guy, a friend, a...guyfriend, but Rich doesn’t seem interested in changing back. Is this just...how he is, how _she_ is, this is what she’s wanted to be the whole time? That’s kind of...weird to think about, and a little painful, stupidly. Chuck likes her like this, but he liked his friend the way he was, too. Not that it matters, if Rich is happier like this, but--

“Uh...so do you, um,” Chuck starts, and then bites the words off again. He doesn’t actually know if this is a dumb, bad question now that he’s started it--if it’s going to...hurt Rich’s feelings, somehow, or what. But he’s already started it, and she’s going to prod at him until he finishes it now. “...Do you...like this better? Like, like this?”

Rich frowns at him, and then her eyes widen. “Oh, you mean the--the girl thing. I--no? It's like, uh--do you not like it?”

“No, it’s good!” Chuck says quickly--drags his hands at his face. “It’s really good, I just--I dunno, I’d feel like kind of a dick if you’ve been...if this is what you-- If this was more like--and we were treating you like a guy all the time, I dunno, I just don’t want to be an asshole.” He messes with his bangs, huffs. Offers a weak kind of smile. “...Considerate boyfriend, remember?”

“Oh!” She thinks about that a minute and gives him a crooked smile back. “Yeah, shit, you're pretty good at this, baby boy.” She shrugs her upper shoulder, takes her hand off Chuck's back to rake her hair out of her face, frowning a little to herself. “It's like… they're both right? I like being both, it's--” She kind of grimaces, waves a hand, not very helpfully. “I was born boy-shaped, but Dad says when I was five I shifted girl every time I was at home where it was safe, for like most of a year. Cuz, I _can't_ when I'm out and around, I'm only supposed to be one, not both. And it feels weird being limited like that, so…” she gives Chuck an uncertain look. “I make up for it in private, sometimes.”

“...Huh,” says Chuck, because--well, what the fuck else is there to say. Drops his head down against her collarbone again and nuzzles in, acutely aware she’s still watching him, just as acutely aware there’s no way he’s gonna let himself fuck this up. “...’Kay. Cool.”

“I know it's weird,” she says in that too-casual way, and shrugs again. “Like, who's this chick all of a sudden, right? So, uh. I can switch back, or like, be a guy with you most of the time, if that's better.”

“Hey,” Chuck growls, and nips at her collarbone, still not pulling his face out of her neck. He doesn’t actually know if he’s got the guts to be real right now if he’s looking somebody in the eye, and if he blows this off with a joke he’s never gonna forgive himself. “‘That chick’ is my girlfriend, is who. Look--you’re great, okay? You’re my friend, okay, and you’re a dick with a bad sense of humor, and I’m into it, and just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean we’re not friends, or you’re not hot, or I’m not still into it. If you can be cool with me--drinking blood, and creeping on people’s heartbeats, and having the weird big ears and the wings and stuff, that’s way weirder than somebody who can be a hot chick liking to be a hot chick sometimes.” He stops, takes a breath, finds he’s run out of things to say. Finishes, “...dumbass,” a little bit lamely, like the aforementioned big flappy ears aren’t red all the way to the tips. 

Rich snickers a little breathlessly and squeezes him hard, shivers once against him and lets out a long, almost silent breath. “Cool,” she murmurs. And a moment later pokes him. “Man, _fuck_ you for being better at the whole 'romantic and considerate’ deal than I am, god. Liam should date _you_.” Despite this statement, she shows no inclination to let go and stop snuggling him.

“The day Liam settles down is the day hell freezes over,” Chuck snorts, and reorganizes himself a little so he’s not lying on his arm and also, coincidentally, so his dick’s not too close to anything it could rub up against. Not that sex isn’t great, but _oof._ “I don’t think he could be exclusive if he wanted to, he just--” he waves a hand blearily in the air, faltering a little as a yawn interrupts the words. “Jus’... _mmh_. Got a lot, a lot of, uh. He’d like, explode.” He drops the arm down, wraps it around her ribs and snuggles in closer. “...Fuck. Naptime.”

“Glitter,” Rich says, and starts stroking Chuck's hair again. “Glitter is what he's got a lot of. Fuck, did you see when he and Ben got in a fight last week and Ben's cubicle ended up looking like some fae had come all over the place? Liam was just shedding fairy dust everywhere, Ben was so pissed.”

“Mmhm,” says Chuck. He kind of feels like he should stay awake-- _Considerate Boyfriend_ , etc.--but Rich’s arms are warm and her chest is warm and Chuck just feels...warm, sated, full and sleepy. He makes a few more agreeing noises, growls faintly as Rich laughs at him and ruffles his hair up, and then snuggles up and drifts away to the distant soft sound of typing--with the hand of his stupid, hot asshole date-friend warm on his back.


End file.
